


Stillness

by perplexed



Series: YogKink [3]
Category: Hat Films - Fandom, The Yogscast
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, Fluff and Smut, Japanese Rope Bondage, M/M, Shibari, Subspace, Suspension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-02
Updated: 2016-02-02
Packaged: 2018-05-17 21:39:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5886259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perplexed/pseuds/perplexed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>A moment of stillness is all that Ross seeks.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stillness

**Author's Note:**

> This is basically just some self-indulgent mush.
> 
> Pictures of the shibari ties at in the A/N at the end, feel free to peruse (and use) those refs if you're not familiar with shibari ties c:

A moment of stillness is all that Ross seeks. A moment of stillness in the chaos that usually surrounds him and his lover. He knows it's there, has felt it a hundred times perhaps and will feel it a thousand more. He looks across at Smith out of the corner of his eye and his lips twist into a small smile. He watches intently as Smith lays the rope out neatly, grouped by the diameter of the braid, on the floor next to the bed atop the corner of the rug. Smith's usual banter is quietened, and Ross is similarly keeping his mouth closed. Ross reaches up to test the strength of the ring attached to the ceiling, satisfied that it'll hold Smith's weight when he hangs off it with both hands and it doesn't so much as shift.

Smith whispers his readiness and Ross nods a couple of times, just a barely there quirk of the head. He turns to face Smith, cups his hand around the other man's jaw lovingly and places a kiss upon his lips. His other hand wanders over Smith's naked form, across the flat expanse of his chest and over his stomach, back up his arm, a smile pulling at his lips as he does so. He worships Smith in that moment, hand coasting over smooth skin.

"Kneel," Ross says quietly, because he doesn't need to raise his voice to be heard.

Ross waits until Smith is on his knees before he kneels down himself opposite his partner. His eyes close and he rests his hands upon his own thighs, drawing in a deep breath as he prepares himself. His eyes flicker open and he looks appreciatively over Smith again, eyes glazed with adoration as the energy in the room swirls around them in almost palpable clouds. The room grows quiet, though Ross doesn't know if that's because his laptop has finally shut itself off or because he's focusing entirely on Smith. He wonders if Smith can feel the flickering electricity between them too.

"Take a few deep breaths for me. Open your eyes."

His voice is soft but commanding, firm yet yielding. He knows just the way to pitch his voice so that he's the only thing Smith focuses in on. Ross isn't sure why he speaks quietly as it's just them in a silent room, but he does it partly out of habit. There is no one else; only the two of them, kneeling on the floor beneath the ring. A few moments pass, and Ross focuses his breathing again. He swears he can _feel_ Smith grow closer to him as they draw in slow, long breaths, knees inches from the other's.

With a small nod, Ross reaches for a hank of rope, folding the length between his hands as Smith gives him a tranquil smile. He pauses for a second, just long enough to draw another breath in, and then he begins.

The first few strands of a takate-kote slide into place around Smith's wrists, the rope flowing up and around his upper arms like a living vine winding its way around his body. Ross runs his hand over Smith's chest, drawing the line with it, over and around. The rope joins up with its beginning, and the first embrace of the rope is completed. Again, he loops the rope with hands that have done this a number of times, again, again, and again, pulling it through to cinch it tightly, and the first rope is on.

Ross picks up another hank of rope and again the sinuous dance begins. His hands flow over Smith's skin, leaving hempen trails behind to mark their passing. A few slow, careful movements, and this rope also lies snug against Smith's skin. Ross falls into the rhythm of the tie. Each strand calls to him, every movement careful and planned as the rope flows from him to Smith, around Smith, into Smith.

"Stand."

The takate-kote is complete, and Smith stands on slightly wobbly legs in front of Ross, his head held high as the first ebb of subspace creeps into his mind. Ross reaches across to take hold of one of the long tails of rope, his other hand coming up to rest on Smith's neck, pulling the other man into his chest as he winds and ties the length of rope around the ring above their heads. He pulls Smith up onto his toes, looping the line through the link, then locking it off around the ring, securing Smith on his tip-toes, attached to the sky.

Ross breathes deeply, moves to kneel at Smith's side, another length of rope clutched in his hands. Gently, he folds Smith's left leg up and begins the futomomo tie. He knows this is tough for Smith, hanging just in the futomomo-tsuri, and Ross is careful with his tie. He weaves the ladder of the leg binding slowly, carefully, cinching down with each wrap, avoiding any twists in the double line. He reaches through, pulling the last of the cinches tight and smiling slightly at Smith's small gasp of discomfort. He can practically feel the dull ache in Smith's leg, watching where it pulls against the bindings. He knows Smith is tired, but he insisted on being tied after a long, hard day at work. He can sense Smith's tiredness, sense every point on his body that's pulled a little too taught with pangs of weariness.

Standing, Ross gathers up another hank of rope, attaching a long line to Smith's thigh. Smith leans into him, and Ross has a brief moment of disorientation as he feels Smith's chest heave with a deep breath, the warmth of his exhaustion across Ross' upper arm. He smiles at the moment of confusion, and Smith smiles along with him, able to sense it from the way Ross swayed slightly. As he ties, it feels like he's not only tying lengths of ropes together, but tying himself and Smith closer as well. Ross pauses, revels in the feeling of Smith against his body for a second, before pulling Smith's leg up and out to the side, assisting the lift with his off-hand. He ties it off, and Smith is just slightly closer to the sky, struggling to keep his balance on the one foot he barely has on the floor.

Ross smiles and reaches up to stroke Smith's cheek gently.

"Almost there, sunshine."

His voice is a whisper, canted again in tones which spoke a million 'I love you''s. Smith smiles hazily at Ross, trust flickering behind his eyes like a candle's flame. Ross leans forwards and kisses the corner of Smith's lips before sinking back to his knees to continue the tie.

He moves faster now, knowing that Smith's time up will likely be limited. Smith's tiredness sings through every one of his muscles, and Ross eyes him just in case Smith uses his safeword. He can feel Smith's bliss, elation pulsing through his body at being tied, but he can also feel how tough this suspension is on Smith. Ross moves, and this bind around Smith's hips and thighs goes quickly; it's a mere matter of moments before Ross is attaching the long line to Smith's thigh and then looping it through the ring above them.

"Are you ready?" Ross asks, and he knows it's a redundant question he already knows the answer to, but he asks anyway, just in case.

"Yeah." Smith grins his usual indomitable grin, though it's a little lop-sided.

Ross takes a breath then uses all his strength to pull on the long line in his hand, lifting Smith just an inch off the floor in the embrace of his ropework. It was enough, though, for Smith to feel completely weightless, or like a thousand hands were holding him up - he wasn't sure which was more apt.

Hitching the rope and tying it off, Ross then turns his attention to Smith, who again languidly grins at him. Ross runs his hand over Smith's body, fingers catching on the edges of rope as they go.

"You're beautiful," Ross says as he reaches up and cards his hand through Smith's hair slowly, letting his fingers tangle with the strands.

Smith smiles, leans into Ross' touch, mourns the loss of the warmth of his partner's hand against his head as it travels down his chest, across his binds. Ross lets his hand continue down Smith's body, until it curls around his half-hard length teasingly lightly. Smith lets out a groan, feels himself pulse in Ross' hand, unaware before then of how worked up he's got. Between his exhaustion and the slow crawl that subspace slows his mind to, Smith wasn't aware of much other than Ross' hand on him suddenly. The pull in his hip and leg lightens significantly as Ross coasts his hand over Smith's cock, movements fluid and slow as the flow of molasses.

Smith cracks his eyes open when Ross pulls away to undress himself, watching keenly as his partner's body comes into view. Ross steps out of his eyeline, presumably to collect lube from the nightstand, and try as he might Smith can't turn his head enough to look at him, though he tries in vain. Ross reappears with slick fingers, which he strokes against Smith's entrance gently. Smith grimaces, never having been a fan of the initial cold slick of lube, but soon relaxes once Ross presses a careful finger into him.

"Y'alright?" Ross drawls, slowly pumping his finger. "If you need to be cut down, just use your safeword," he says softly, and Smith rolls his eyes before nodding.

Letting his head slump a little when Ross presses another finger into him, Smith takes a shuddering breath and exhales it quickly. If he strains his head, he can see where Ross has his other hand around himself, stroking slowly in time with the parry and thrust of his fingers. He adds another finger and Smith moans out at the stretch, shifting against his bindings, longing to reach his hands out and touch Ross somehow, anyhow. His leg aches, hitched up the way it is, but Smith grits his teeth and bares the pain, enjoying the small rush of adrenaline that courses through his veins every time he pulls against the suspension.

Ross exhales deeply as he comes, face scrunching up into a slight contortion of pleasure. He doesn't stop moving his fingers inside Smith, curling them upwards as his own arousal snakes away from him slowly. Smith gives a small grunt as Ross' fingers brush over the spot inside him that screams for more, and he tries to shift down onto Ross' three fingers but finds that it's impossible with the way he's tied to move more than a few millimeters.

"Patience," Ross says with a chuckle, and Smith groans, partly out of frustration and partly because Ross' other hand is around him now, every stroke matching the thrusts of his fingers.

It sneaks up on Smith, takes him entirely by surprise when he comes, washing over him in white-hot waves as he twists against the rope holding him in place. Ross coaxes him through it with a few practiced flicks of his wrists, dragging out the ebbs of pleasure as long as he can - by the time he slowly withdraws his hands, Smith is twitching and groaning, sweat beading on his forehead in the cool room.

"Are you alright to be let down slow, or do you need to be cut down?" Ross' voice cuts through the sound of Smith's slowly regulating breathing mellifluously after a few minutes or more.

"I'm okay," Smith says through the fog of subspace, hoping that his simple statement conveys his meaning well enough. Now he's come, he feels deliciously boneless and fucked out, ready to fall asleep at any given moment. With the ropes' embrace warming him, Smith is fairly certain that he could sleep suspended there if Ross let him, even though his hip is throbbing with pain.

"Alright, sunshine. Let’s get you down."

Ross lets up the tension on the ropes gently, lowering Smith down to the ground where he kneels, then sits awkwardly with one leg crooked up in the futomomo tie still. He smiles hazily up at Ross, enjoying the feeling of his partner's hands coasting over his skin and loosening his binds with the same practiced motions that put them there in the first place. When Smith's leg is free, Ross runs his fingers over where the rope has pressed into Smith's skin, gently massaging the aching muscles, knowing how hard the tie had been on him.

Smith smiles again and leans heavily against where Ross is kneeling at his side. His head rests on Ross' shoulder, and Ross drops an affectionate kiss to the top of Smith's head, burying his face in the other man's hair briefly.

"How does your leg feel?" Ross asks, and Smith offers little more than a shrug in response. He's so tired, and while he knows he'll ache like fuck in the morning, he's willing to just pop some aspirin before bed and deal with it when he wakes up.

Ross cautiously undoes the hip harness, and Smith looks down at where the ropes have left pretty little twisted marks on his skin. There are a couple of small abrasions from where he was hanging, but they aren't too painful to deal with, so Smith pays little attention to them. Moving then to undo the takate-kote, Ross moves fluidly but a little more quickly then, keen to get Smith untied and into bed as soon as possible. He can feel the sneaking curl of tiredness flowing through Smith's veins, and the yawn that Smith stifles just confirms Ross' train of thought.

Once his hands are freed, Smith flexes his fingers a few times; having his hands up his back felt great at the time, but the aftermath meant that his hands would likely ache annoyingly all night. Ross sets the hanks of rope aside, discarding his usual need for organisation in favour of guiding Smith through some stretches, easing his hands over aching muscles and tendons as he does so. Smith rolls his eyes a couple of times at Ross when the other man insists he stretches properly or he'll ache more in the morning than he already will, but it's a loving action and not an annoyed one.

Ross continues massaging at the rope marks on Smith's arm for a moment, absent-mindedly just enjoying the feel of them below his fingertips.

"I wanna sleep," Smith says in a long, tired drawl, and Ross nods knowingly. He gets up onto his feet, holds his hands out to Smith and helps his partner up off the floor with a heave and pull. Smith groans as his muscles right themselves under his skin, wobbling on the spot for a second with legs seemingly made of jelly before he regains his balance.

Ross uses a guiding hand to get Smith into bed, peeling the sheets back. He excuses himself for a moment, goes to the bathroom to wash his hands and get Smith a glass of water and some much needed aspirin. By the time he returns, Smith is already half-asleep, smiling even through his tiredness when Ross climbs into bed with him.

A moment of stillness was all Ross sought, and with his arms around Smith as the other man falls asleep, he smiles to himself, knowing he got what he wanted.

**Author's Note:**

> [Takate-kote](http://i.ytimg.com/vi/Go8hFvMwTMU/0.jpg) (Chest loading)
> 
> [Futomomo](https://36.media.tumblr.com/239120a5e6ced8bb7b8902b3d78cef48/tumblr_nri4kwo6ce1qa8wg6o1_500.jpg) (The 'tsuri' part means 'hanging' or 'suspended' in this case, if my very limited Japanese knowledge serves me well.)
> 
> [Hip Harness](https://ropediary.files.wordpress.com/2013/02/wpid-20130218_194817.jpg)
> 
> All pictures are SFW in that they don't contain overt nudity or sex, but they are still rope bondage pictures, aha.


End file.
